A Town Called Moron
by Emily-Of-Midgard
Summary: With GLaDOS worse than dead and an unknown virus poisoning the rest of Aperture's technology, a human Wheatley sets off to find Chell. When she finds him close to death, she agrees to help him take Aperture back. What happens next Wheatley would describe as 'a rescue mission of colossal proportions'. Chell would describe it as 'hell'.
1. Prelude

The town was located on the edge of a great desert, one of the many blights on the landscape after the war with the Combine was won. Rain was rare and newcomers were even rarer but as it so happened, they both arrived on the same day. In fact, the storm was gathering on the horizon when the man staggered into town.

The people of the town were much more interested in the storm than the man. After all, the storm was large and dark and imposing while the man was…not. He was large, tall and lanky, but the rest of him was so unimposing his entrance into town wasn't even noticed. His dark red hair was caked with dust as was his skin and glasses. His clothing was so filthy, it looked like had been rolling around in the dirt, which wasn't too far off. Dark stains that looked like blood splattered his coat and when he collapsed in the middle of Main Street, it was revealed that he had no shoes.

But it wasn't every day that it rained. So nobody even noticed him.

The man coughed into his hand and then shuddered when he realized he had coughed up blood. He pushed himself to his feet and started towards the only source of light, a diner on the corner of Main Street and Freeman Boulevard. Perhaps if the man had been a little faster and arrived before nightfall, he could have received help faster. But ever since the war, the people of the town were frightened of what could come out of the desert at night. They were all in their houses, watching the weather channel for news on the storm. A few people noticed the man's walk down the street but in the dim light, they had written him off as a drunk and returned to the television.

The Piero family was one of the few families that was still interested in space. Even after the war, the Piero family took pride in having a relative that had been involved in the original astronaut missions. That was why the only diner in town was the Out of this World Pizzeria. It did a fair business. Even if most people were paranoid about anything having to do with space, they would still flock to the pizzeria for a hot meal that didn't come from a synthesizer. An actual homemade meal was a commodity and the restaurant was always packed. Thus, when the man flung open the doors and then fell to his knees, coughing up dust and blood, there was plenty of people to witness it.

Nobody wanted to touch him. It was obvious that he had come from the desert and who knows what lived there. For all they knew, the man had a horrible disease that could be transferred by a touch. They all just stared at the man, as he raised himself up on one knee, a hand on his chest.

"Please!" He cried, his voice horse and his accent British. "Can somebody help me!?"

"What's wrong with you, son?" The bartender finally asked. "You need to go to the hospital."

"No!" The man said. His voice was pained but he moved faster than the people had thought possible. In the blink of an eye, he had grabbed the bartender by the shirt. "Not me! I don't matter! I need to find her! You have to help me find her!"

The bartender let out a startled cry which prompted the others to act. Two strong men grabbed the man, wrenching the bartender from his grip. The man flailed weakly but he was wracked by more coughing. They put him down on the ground, the man's protests growing weaker and weaker.

"I have to find her!" He clenched his hands as another series of coughs caused him to cough up more blood than before. The people of the restaurant gathered around the dying man as he weakly raised a hand. "Please help me."

"What's your name, son?" The bartender asked, kneeling at his side.

"My…I think," The man took a shuddering breath. "I think it was Wheatley. Once. Maybe a first name. Perhaps a last. But it doesn't matter. She's here. I know she's here. I followed her signal. I have to apologize. I have to make things right. And she has to help! I have to help her!"

"Calm down Wheatley," The bartender said. "We've already called for help. I know everyone in this town. What's her name."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but he fell silent. A slender hand had grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. He stared at her for a moment and she at him. He extended his hand and reached out for her. She recoiled from his touch. The man looked pained and he swallowed hard. He blinked a few times, as if fighting back tears.

"Chell…?" He breathed. The woman stared at him for a few moments, reading him, and then she nodded.

The man grinned. "I knew I'd find you. I knew it."

And then he died.

* * *

AN- Of course Wheatley's not dead. He's very sick and his heart may have just stopped, but he's not really dead. I don't think I could kill him.

Against my better judgment, I have fallen in love with the paring WheatDOS. And this is my attempt to write an in-character, interesting story where that paring could be possible. Will I fail? Most likely, but I hope this is at least interesting.

Tell me what you think?


	2. Sleep Mode

_Sleep Mode activated._

_Chronic damage taken._

_Assessing damage taken to core systems._

_Skeletal System: Unchanged._

_Muscular System: Unchanged._

_Cardiovascular System: Heart is now functioning at 80%._

_Digestive System: Liver failure progressing. Liver is now functioning at 50%._

_Nervous System: Brain hyperactive, though Core Construct Implants are functioning at 100%._

_Respiratory System: Lungs are suffering from chronic failure. Lungs now functioning at 10%. Sensory inputs suggest that Intelligence Dampening Unit has been placed on a form of respiration device._

_Immune System: Functioning at 0%. WARNING: CRITICAL ERRORS._

_Scanning for viruses. _

_No viruses found._

_Searching for foreign constructs._

_No foreign constructs found. No trace of MEDUSA construct found in system._

_WARNING! Critical error! _

_Alert! Alert! Activation attempted!_

_CaTAstrophic errOR._

_Complete systemmmm failuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure._

_Shutting down. SHuTtING doWN. ShhhhuuuutttttinnnGGGGGg-_

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!"

_Electricity system overwhelmed. A momentary peak of 5000 volts was recorded._

_Catastrophic error has been fixed._

_Sleep mode reactivated._

* * *

_Sleep mode deactivated._

* * *

Wheatley hadn't spent much time asleep and thus, he didn't know a whole lot about it. However, he knew enough to know that being tied down to a bed wasn't the usual way to sleep.

A loud beeping sound had woken him up. In an attempt to figure out what that noise was, he tried to sit up but the rope and, surprisingly, the pain stopped him. As soon as he moved, pain radiated across his body. He attempted to yell for somebody, anybody (because something was very wrong) but he found he couldn't. A tube was crammed down his throat, preventing him from speaking.

The beeping sound had both increased in sound and in frequency.

The door slammed open and somebody ran into the room. A large, ugly human face came into Wheatley's limited line of sight and then vanished again. He again attempted to yell out but a sudden, agonizing pressure on his chest cut off all speech.

The words _panic attack _and _heart attack _were being yelled over and over again.

What was a-?

* * *

_Sleep mode activated._

* * *

_Sleep mode deactivated._

* * *

Only he would be comforted by a wall made of glass.

At least it was something he had seen before. Large observation chambers were all over the place back at Aperture. People on the other side of the glass though, now that was a different story. Wheatley had never seen the observation chambers actually used.

Here at least, they were. That ugly man was back, along with a woman who had her back to him. The man was gesturing wildly to her while the woman didn't seem to be responding to his tirade. Wheatley narrowed his eyes in concentration. That woman sure looked a lot like-.

"Chell! It's actually-!" Wheatley cried out as he flailed his arms to get her attention, then immediately regretted it. While, thankfully, the tube was gone, the pain was not. The rest of his sentence turned into agonizing coughing.

The man had looked up and notice the man was awake. He briskly walked into the hospital room, followed by Chell, who was looking anywhere but at him. Following Chell was a blonde woman he hadn't noticed. The nurse grabbed a rag and placed it over his mouth. When the coughing finally stopped and she pulled it away, Wheatley was horrified to see it covered in blood.

"Well!" The man- a doctor? Was that what they were called? Was the other woman a nurse then?- "You gave us quite a fright there, sir."

"I did?" Wheatley asked, his voice hoarse.

"Indeed. To tell you the truth, we didn't think you'd survive the night. You suffered a heart attack a few days ago, on top of everything else. Thankfully you have a brilliant nurse and a devoted friend who alerted me."

Friend? He looked over at Chell, who was staring at the piece of art on the wall, giving no sign that she had heard him.

"There is the small matter of the medical bills, though. To tell you the truth, we aren't sure where to bill them to. There's no record of you in our system. Would you mind telling us who you-." The man said.

"Sir," The nurse spoke up in a nasal voice. "I think you're being paged."

"Hmm? Oh! I am. Sorry, lots to do, sir! Plenty of patients! I'll just leave you alone for a bit. I'll be back later to discuss the bills." And with that, the doctor left. Wheatley sighed in relief. Now he could talk to-.

"ACH!"

Quicker than he would have thought possible for a human, Chell's fingers were around his neck.

"You'll kill him!" The nurse yelled, trying to pull Chell off him.

"Exactly!" Chell responded in a very raspy, somewhat broken voice.

"I know how you feel but we can't kill him! You said it yourself we need to figure out what was going on!" The nurse responded, wrenching Chell's hands from his neck. Wheatley gasped for breath.

"That was when I thought he was already dead. Now that he has a chance-."Chell broke off, twisted her fingers in the air as if she was still trying to strangle him.

"I," Wheatley panted. "Understand that you are angry."

And just like that, her hands were at his throat again.

A few minutes later, Chell was seated in a chair, looking murderous and the nurse was seated on his bed, running her fingers nervously through her blonde hair. They all sat in silence for a few moments before the nurse spoke.

"So. You must be Wheatley."

"Have we met?" He asked.

"No, but I've heard a lot about you."

Wheatley tried to smile. "Well, I hope what you've heard has all been good."

The silence in the room was deafening. The nurse tried to laugh nervously while Chell just looked angrier.

"Well…I wouldn't say that." The nurse said nervously.

"And who would you be?" Wheatley said, desperate to change to conversation.

"My name is Mel Jones. I'm a nurse here."

"Then how do you know who I am?" Wheatley asked. Mel opened her mouth to respond but Chell cut in.

"She's my wife."

"Oh? Oh! Your wife! That's nice, that's nice. You two seem very…happy together," Wheatley rambled. "Nothing in the file that mentioned that but-."

"File?" Mel asked.

"The Aperture Science file on Chell. How I learned your name, actually. You never, uh, said that much."

"She shouldn't be saying that much," Mel said, turning a reproachful eye on Chell, who rolled her eyes. "It's not good for her vocal cords."

"Oh, she didn't talk because of her vocal cords? That's a relief! I thought she was just stupid and…I'm going to stop talking now. Yup. That's what I'm going to do."

"You're one to talk," Chell said darkly, ignoring Mel's look. "Why are you even here? You're supposed to be in space. I can't imagine Her letting you back."

"Well, she did, but it wasn't out of the goodness of her heart, I can tell you that," Wheatley said with a shudder. "She's also the reason I'm now a smelly human. Of all the tortures she could have put me through, why she chose THIS one is beyond me. It's too cruel even for her…though, being a human isn't all that bad, really," Wheatley said, catching sight of Chell and Mel's face. "You were never smelly Chell and although I haven't smelled your wife I'm sure she smells lovely."

"Tell me why you're here in ten seconds or I'm pulling that plug," Chell said, pointing at one of the machines. "And Mel tells me a number of interesting things will happen if I do."

"Oh God, please don't do that! Okay, well, uh…" Wheatley said nervously.

"Seven seconds." Chell remarked blandly.

"Well, you see, there's this virus and it's infecting everything and, well…"

"Five seconds." Chell responded, getting up from her chair and leisurely walking over to the machines.

"No, please don't! I can explain!"

"Please do," Chell said, kneeling on the floor next to the plug. "I wonder what color you'll turn."

"I can't believe you sometimes." Mel said, rolling her eyes but making no attempt to stop her.

"GLaDOS is dead!" Wheatley cried out, desperate to stop Chell. And it did. She went absolutly still as she stared at him. There was a few moments of silence before she spoke, her voice wavering.

"You have my attention."

* * *

AN- Quote from the Half-Life wiki: "Mel is a playable character cut from Portal 2. She was originally to be one of two cooperative campaign Test Subjects, the other being Chell." Mel never actually appeared in the game so naturally, I ship her and Chell.


End file.
